


Your Unfinished Business

by NotALemon



Series: You're Just My Type (O Negative) [3]
Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Bad Coffee, Banter, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gravity Falls Oregon, M/M, Meet the Family, Mystery Shack, Nighttime Roof Talks, References to Stanchez, References to s02e16 Roadside Attraction, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: Dipper takes Norman to Gravity Falls.
Relationships: Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez/Melody, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Norman Babcock/Dipper Pines, Stan Pines/Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Series: You're Just My Type (O Negative) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522337
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. I'm in the Passenger Seat, You're in Control

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Scary Love" by The Neighbourhood.

It’s early in the morning when they leave from Corvallis, Dipper’s stuff all packed up in the back of his car. Dipper plays paranormal podcasts through the aux, the sounds of Lets Read and Mr. Creepypasta playing over the speakers. He and Norman like to laugh at the inaccuracies of the supposed “true stories”.

Dipper yawns.

“If _someone_ had gone to sleep at a normal time last night, maybe he wouldn’t be so tired,” Norman teases.

“Shut up, man,” Dipper mutters, reaching for his paper cup of coffee. “ _You_ went to sleep at the same time.”

“ _I_ can handle it.” Norman stretches out his legs. 

“Lucky you.” Dipper sips his coffee and pulls a face at the slightly-burnt taste, the liquid still a little too hot on his tongue. He’s used to shitty coffee, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he _enjoys_ the taste of bad coffee. He’ll tolerate it nevertheless.

“Guess not getting a lot of sleep has some benefits.” 

Dipper shakes his head. “I dunno how you’re still _alive_ , Norm.”

“You do the same thing! You can’t make fun of me like that.” 

Dipper sets the paper cup back in the cupholder and reaches out for Norman’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Norman hums in response. 

“I need to take you to Blithe Hollow, sometime,” Norman says, idly.

“Yeah?” Dipper glances at him for a second, his glasses slipping down his nose. He quickly ducks down to push up his glasses with his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Norman says. “I think you’d like it.”

“I would,” Dipper says. He smiles at Norman briefly, a little tired but still as full of affection as ever, then looks back at the tree-lined road. “We could go on a road trip. It’s the summertime and everything.”

“Mm.” Norman brushes his chilly thumb along the back of Dipper’s freckle-splattered hand, trying to trace constellations between the spots, a particular favorite pastime of his in the lazy in-between moments they share, the tender times where they fill the silence with unspoken actions. “That… That sounds really nice.”

“We could! Like, go through the United States, from Oregon to Massachusetts, and investigate all the mysteries!” Dipper’s eyes get that gleam to them, the brown of his eyes shining the way they always do when he gets excited about an idea. His recording equipment sits in the backseat, carefully packed into its case and carried around to _record every mystery_ he encounters.

Norman smiles at him. “Yeah,” he says, quietly. “That would be fun.”

Dipper begins describing everything they could do and try to find, from Mothman to Sasquatch to the Goatman and Loveland Frogs. His eyes have that excited sparkle in them, and Norman has to remind him to keep his hand on the wheel and eyes on the road several times.

The drive from Corvallis to Gravity Falls isn’t _too_ bad. Norman likes watching the near-endless sea of green trees pass by, blurred by their speed, and listening to Dipper tell wild stories about all of the tourist traps they pass.

“Oregon’s known for its natural beauty, but, let’s be honest, trees get _really_ boring after a while,” Dipper says, in a faux-narrative tone, sounding a little like Grunkle Stan, from what Norman’s heard from Dipper’s phone calls. “That’s why man created tourist traps.”

“Wow,” Norman says. “Did you work on that?”

“I stole it,” Dipper confesses. “But-- hey, the Corn Maze’s that way! Grunkle Stan released corn weevils there.” He pauses, brow furrowing. “And we lost Soos.”

“The guy that owns the Mystery Shack now?” Norman asks.

“Yeah. Man, Soos.” Dipper smiles, lopsidedly. “Can’t wait to see him again. You’re gonna _love_ the Mystery Shack. Everything in there’s a sham!” 

“Fun,” Norman says, dryly.

Dipper nudges Norman’s side. “Shut up, man.”

“How did Soos get back?” 

Dipper looks at him blankly, as though he’s trying to figure out the exact same questions. “I… don’t know, actually.”

“It’s a mystery,” Norman says, sagely, putting on the voice of the _Thriller_ narrator. 

“He just sort of… showed back up again.” Dipper shrugs, face wrinkling in mild confusion as he tries to work it out. “It happens sometimes.”

“ _What_?” Norman looks at Dipper, incredulous but playfully so. Hearing Dipper's stories make him feel a little better about how odd his life is, knowing that someone else has experienced odd paranormal events. “You have such a weird life, Dipper. _Only you_ have done this stuff.”

Dipper shrugs again. “It’s just how my life is. _Weird_. I mean, life in Gravity Falls is pretty weird, so my life's gotta be, too..."

“So is mine, but I don’t have teleporting handymen.” Norman leans back in his seat, propping his long legs up on the dashboard, stretching out. “Just ghosts and zombies, once.”

“Aren’t your Blithe Hollow friends weird, too?” Dipper asks.

“Not as weird as my boyfriend,” Norman retorts.

“Oh, _that_ hurts.” Dipper takes his hand from Norman’s to clutch at his heart dramatically. Norman rolls his eyes.

“Okay, Dip. You don’t have to be so dramatic.” 

“Haven’t you met me?” Dipper asks. 

Norman fails at suppressing a smile. “I have, unfortunately.”

“Get out of the car," Dipper deadpans, far more successfully than Norman.

“Are you going to leave me in the Corn Maze?”

Dipper gets a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“Oh, no. What will I do?” Norman gives Dipper a mischievous little glance. “Maybe I’ll just find some other geeky pretty boy in the Corn Maze and date _him_ instead.”

“Don’t give your number to strangers in the Corn Maze,” Dipper warns, a seriousness to his voice, as though he’s had previous experience. 

“Sounds like _someone’s_ speaking from experience,” Norman teases.

“Shut up,” Dipper mutters, continuing their drive down Redwood Highway. 

-

“We didn’t stop at the House Shoe,” Dipper explains, when Norman points out a sign advertising it. “I’ve never been.”

“Maybe we should go.”

“I try not to visit tourist traps around here,” Dipper says, nervously. “Grunkle Stan almost got eaten by a woman-spider at Mystery Mountain, and, um, the owners don’t really like us because of him.” He takes an anxious sip of his rapidly-cooling coffee. 

“Your Grunkle has weird rivalries with the other tourist trap owners. Got it.”

-

“Stan let out beavers at Log Land,” Dipper says.

“Go Beavers,” Norman says, giving a little fist-pump and a small grin at the joke about their college mascot. “Where do you get beavers?”

Dipper shrugs. “Set some traps near the water and wait.”

“Huh,” Norman, who has never seen a beaver in real life before, says. 

-

“Grunkle Stan and Soos turned the Upside-Down Town right-side up.” 

Norman looks at the billboard. “How does Upside-Down Town even work?”

“Velcro shoes,” Dipper answers, finishing up the last dregs of his cold coffee and setting the paper cup down with a hollow noise. “You climb on the ceiling. It gives you a big headache. Blood rushes to your brain.”

“You have a brain?” Norman asks, with a smile.

Dipper picks up the empty coffee cup and throws it at Norman’s head. It misses, plunking off the window with an empty sound.

-

“We unravelled Granny Sweetkin’s Yarnball,” Dipper says.

“Tourist trap terrorism,” Norman comments.

“Grunkle Stan liked to call it _pranking_.”

Norman raises his thick eyebrows. “Right. _Pranking_.”

-

“Gravity Falls,” Norman announces, seeing the sign. He sits up attentively, looking out the window like a child. 

“Welcome to Gravity Falls!” Dipper beams at Norman, reaching out for his hand. “It’s, um, not that interesting.”

Norman turns to look at Dipper. “Really?” he asks. “You tell me all these stories, and you say it’s _not that interesting_? Blithe Hollow is _not that interesting_.” He flicks Dipper’s nose.

“Hey man! Don’t distract me. I’m driving!”

“You were talking with your hands the entire drive here!” 

Dipper rubs at the back of his neck. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters. 

“Uh-huh.” Norman looks out the window, watching the town as it passes by. It’s beautiful, in that charming, small-town way, where a lot of the buildings are brick or log, a little rough around the edges, and well-loved. Dipper whistles a tune while he drives down Gopher Road.

Dipper pulls to a large log cabin with a high triangular roof, covered in green moss, in a sort of out-of-the-way area, surrounded by the forest. There’s a totem pole in front of the building and a partially-full parking lot to the side that Dipper parks his Jeep in the parking lot. _MYSTERY HACK_ , a yellow sign on the top of the roof reads, the missing _S_ lying on the tall slanted roof.

Norman climbs out of the Jeep, stretches out his back and limbs, and looks at Dipper over his shoulder. “Do you want to bring the things in, or--?”

“We’ll get it later,” Dipper dismisses. He steps out of the Cherokee and pockets his keys. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack.”

“Don’t you mean Mystery Hack?” Norman asks.

“Ha ha ha,” Dipper says, sarcastically. “That’s _so_ funny, Norm.”

“Well, someone has to be the funny one in this relationship.”

Dipper walks around the front of the Jeep and punches Norman’s bicep. “Shut up, Norm.”

Norman throws his arm around Dipper’s shoulder. “Show me around, Dip. Give me the true Gravity Falls experience.” 

“Later. I just drove across Oregon. I’m tired.” 

“Baby,” Norman says. He pokes Dipper’s button nose (deemed _extremely poke-able_ ), then frowns concernedly at his slowish reaction. “Okay, we can go inside and nap.”

Dipper smiles at him, leaning against Norman’s side. They walk into the Mystery Shack, greeted by the familiar smell of mothballs and tourist disappointment, the bell on the door ringing brightly as they cross the threshold.


	2. There Really Was No Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dipper! Norman!” Mabel yells, charging towards them in a blur of glitter and sweater, arms outstretched. Together, with Dipper’s sturdier frame and Norman’s surprisingly tight grip, they can withstand Mabel’s impact, but just barely. “Guys! They’re here! They’re here!” she calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Little Ghost" by The White Stripes. (Also known as "that song from the ParaNorman end credits!)

“Dipper! Norman!” Mabel yells, charging towards them in a blur of glitter and sweater, arms outstretched. Together, with Dipper’s sturdier frame and Norman’s surprisingly tight grip, they can withstand Mabel’s impact, but just barely. “Guys! They’re here! They’re here!” she calls.

“Hey, dudes!” Soos says, coming in to hug them, too. “Welcome back, Pterodactyl Bro!” 

“Welcome back, Dipper,” Melody says, smiling at them from her position further back in the Mystery Shack's gift shop. She rests her hand on her baby bump.

“Stan and Ford are in the living room!” Mabel says. She beams at Dipper and Norman, face pulling up into her familiar smile. “C’mon c’mon c’mon!” She grabs their hands, Norman’s in one and Dipper’s in the other, and drags them to the living room.

Comfortably-furnished as ever, the tv playing loudly, a testament to Stan and Ford’s declining hearing, and smelling vaguely of mothballs and spilled Pitt Cola, the living room brings back years of summer memories. Stan lounges in his checkered yellow chair, Ford in a new armchair, a green version of Stan’s. 

“Hey, there’s the little gremlin!” Stan says. “Say hi to your Grunkles, kid.”

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, this is Norman,” Dipper says.

“Norman,” Ford says, smiling politely. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack.”

“So you’re the boy I hear about all the time,” Stan says, less outwardly polite than Ford. Ford nudges his shoulder. Stan nudges him back.

Norman shuffles his feet. “I, uh… yeah. I’m Dipper’s boyfriend.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s nice to meet you. Dipper talks about you… a lot, actually.” Norman glances at Dipper with a small smile.

“You’re not a cop or somethin’, are you?” Stan asks, slightly paranoid.

“No. No, actually.” Norman rubs the back of his neck. “I’m, um, a paranormal investigator.”

Stan raises an eyebrow and looks at Dipper. “Of course you found someone who’s as much of a nerd as you are.”

“Paranormal investigator?” Ford sits up straighter, a spark lighting in his eyes, a smile nearly on his face. _Nearly_. “What drew you to it?”

“I’m a medium,” Norman says. 

Ford blinks at him. “You mean you can see _ghosts_?”

“Yeah,” Norman says, shyly. 

“How long has it manifested?” Ford gets that look in his eyes that he does when he’s interested in analyzing something, often a creature or phenomenon. Dipper’s always admired that look, except when it’s directed at his boyfriend, even though he’s looked at Norman the same way before.

“Um,” Norman says. “Ever since I was a kid? It kinda... runs in my family.”

“Amazing!” Ford beams at Norman. 

Norman both shrinks and almost shines under the attention. “Uh. Thanks.” He smiles, a small and kind little thing.

Mabel’s eyes sparkle. “See?! Isn’t Norman, like, the _coolest_?!”

“Didn’t you kids once fight a ghost or somethin’ in the Northwest’s mansion?” Stan asks. “Some sorta… I dunno, _Ghost Harassers_ thing?” Stan glances at Ford. “Is that still a thing kids know about?” Stan whispers, unsubtly.

“ _Yes_ , Stan, kids still know what _Ghost Harassers_ is,” Ford says, a little annoyed. Then he furrows his brow. “Wait a minute, when did _you_ watch _Ghost Harassers_? That came out in the 80s. Weren’t you off with _him_ in the 80s?”

“That was the 70s, Fordy,” Stan says with a hand-wave. “Anyway, _you_ kids once fought a ghost, right?”

Dipper nods.

“Of course.” Stan shakes his head, smiling at Norman. “Makes sense you’d date someone who does the same thing. Nerds love nerds, right?”

“ _Staaaan_ ,” Dipper groans.

“ _I_ think it’s cute,” Mabel announces, poking at her chest so hard it has to hurt.

“It’ll be great, to have a medium in the family!” Ford looks like he’s seconds from going into a passionate rant about the benefits of having a medium/paranormal investigator married to his great nephew, along with percentages and statistics. It’s a long rant, similar to others they’ve heard before, and yet he never runs out of fuel for them. 

Norman colors a little pink and draws his shoulders up. “I mean, uh…” he glances at Dipper.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Dipper says, as smoothly as he can, despite his voice getting pitchy. He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. “I mean, uh, Norm’s cool, so…”

“Come _on_ , Ford!” Mabel says. She pokes Ford’s nose. “Don’t tease them so much!”

“I’m saying that—”

“Stop while you’re ahead, Pointdexter,” Stan suggests. “Kid’s happy. Don’t rush things.”

Ford taps his fingers on the arm of his armchair. 

“Sorry about my nerdy brother,” Stan says. “He’s a good guy, just kinda— what do you call it?”

“Insensitive?” Mabel suggests.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that.” Stan shrugs and smacks Ford’s shoulder, just for good measure.

“I’m curious!” Ford protests.

“It’s really— It’s okay,” Norman says. 

Dipper straightens himself. “So, anyways, we’re here for break. Okay cool I’m gonna show him around.” He drags Norman from the living room before anyone can say anything and a few steps up the stairs, just so they don’t have to listen to the Pines talk about Norman. 

“Shouldn’t we get our stuff?” Norman asks. 

Dipper sighs. “Yeah, okay,” he says. He leads them out to the meager parking lot so they can collect their things from the Jeep, then back into the Mystery Shack, taking Norman up the dusty old stairs that creak with every step they take until they reach the attic, as dusty and old-smelling as Dipper remembers it. “So… this’s it.”

“Nice attic,” Norman remarks, looking around. His eyes catch the triangular window before flickering away. “Cozy.”

“We have two twin mattresses,” Dipper says, gesturing to the beds. “So…”

“Which one was yours?”

Dipper points at the left bed in the part of the room with marginally less glitter specks.

Norman walks over and begins unpacking. 

Dipper wanders down to retrieve some spare covers that smell like flower-scented fabric softener and makes his old bed sloppily. Norman places a couple books from his own bag onto the table beneath the window and moves his plastic bag of toiletries into the closest bathroom. They unpack in relative silence, the floorboards creaking and dust particles floating around them. When they work like this, they’re more like two parts of a machine than people. 

“How about that nap?” Norman asks.

Dipper smiles at him. “Thought you’d forgotten about it.”

“Me?” Norman shakes his head. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Maybe I’m just tired.” Dipper removes his shoes and flops onto the mattress. “Yup. Just as lumpy as I remember.”

Norman takes off his own shoes and climbs into the bed, having to squeeze close to Dipper so he doesn’t fall onto the floor. Dipper throws his arm over Norman’s waist and sighs, letting sleep fall over them.


	3. When the Evening Pulls the Sun Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re sitting up on the broken-down lawn chairs on the roof, their colors faded by the sun and weathered by the elements, drinking Pitt Cola and watching the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Bloom" by The Paper Kites.

They’re sitting up on the broken-down lawn chairs on the roof, their colors faded by the sun and weathered by the elements, drinking Pitt Cola and watching the sky.

“So this was your summer?” Norman asks, quiet voice breaking the hum of crickets from the woods and quiet thrumming of Mabel’s 80s music from the Shack below.

“Since I was twelve, yeah. Isn’t it nice?” Dipper squeezes Norman’s hand. They’re lazily hanging between the chairs, linking together in the space between the chairs. “You can see, like, _everything_ from up here.”

“I could almost see my whole town from my bedroom window,” Norman says. 

“I couldn’t do that in Piedmont,” Dipper says.

“City kid,” Norman teases. He glances over at Dipper with shining eyes and a teasing smile. 

“Hey! I take offense to that, Norm.” Dipper scrunches up his nose at Norman, then laughs. He’s loose and happy, the pastel colors from the beginning of the sunset painting across his face like his freckles. “I’ve spent a lot of my life in Gravity Falls.”

Norman smiles back at him. “I thought it’d be weirder.”

“We haven’t gotten to the forest yet,” Dipper says. 

Norman drinks from his can of Pitt, the condensation on the can slick against his hand. “There are a lot of ghosts in the woods,” he says. Even from the rooftop, he can see the green glow of ghosts amongst the trees, darkened with green pines and the oncoming night. 

“There’s a lot of _stuff_ in the forest,” Dipper says. “Things you wouldn’t believe.”

“I live with you, Dip. I _see ghosts_. You’d be surprised what I wouldn’t believe.”

“Gnomes and Manotaurs and all kinds of crazy stuff.”

Norman raises a thick eyebrow. “Zombies?”

“Yeah, zombies, too. That… was actually my fault.” Dipper cringes at his past self.

“Hey,” Norman says with a shrug and a half-smile. “It happens to the best of us.” 

Dipper scoffs and untangles his hand from Norman’s so he can scoot his chair a little closer to Norman’s, close enough that the plastic arms of the chairs press together. “Norm, I think we’re two of the _only_ people who have ever raised the dead.”

“The best of us,” Norman repeats with another shrug. He holds Dipper’s hand again, resting their forearms on the plastic armrests. “Weird thing to bond over.”

“Don’t wanna scare you, Norm, but we both grew up to be pretty weird.” 

Norman grins at Dipper, then looks at the sky, painted with lilacs and pinks, clouds skating across the pastels of the early sunset, the shadows of the pines poking into the sky. “We did,” he agrees, speaking to the fluffy clouds.

“Do you ever wish you’d grown up…”

“Normal?” Norman asks.

Dipper nods. 

“Sometimes,” Norman says. “When the bullying got bad. But I had my grandma and I had my… gift.” Norman raises his eyebrows at _gift_ , a little sarcastic and skeptical of his own words. “I’m kinda… glad, I guess, that I was a weird child.”

“Huh,” Dipper says.

“Do you wish you hadn’t come to Gravity Falls?”

“No,” Dipper says, quickly. “It’s- I love Gravity Falls. I love the weirdness.”

There’s an _I love you_ hidden somewhere in there.

“This is a pretty cool place,” Norman says, rubbing his thumb along Dipper’s knuckles. He watches the sunset’s colors deepen as the sun slips further into the horizon, sliding closer to the treeline. “Do you take all the creepy boys you like here?”

“I used to sit up here with my— with this girl I liked, Wendy, and hang out.” Dipper wipes his sweaty palm on his shorts and picks up his can. “So I guess I only show it to _really_ special people.”

Norman looks over at Dipper and smiles at him. “I’m special?”

“You can see ghosts, Norm,” Dipper deadpans. 

“But I’m special to you?” Norman asks. He’s grown into himself since he was bullied as a child, but there are still moments when that unsure, self-conscious kid comes back out.

Dipper’s face softens. “Of course you’re special to me, man. You’re my boyfriend.”

Norman looks back at the sinking sun. The sky’s going a bright, glowing orange. “You brought me to your special place.”

“It’s a roof, Norm.”

“No. To Gravity Falls.” 

Dipper scuffs his shoes against the dingy old shingles.

Norman rubs his thumb over Dipper’s knuckles again, a whisper of a touch. “We’ll explore the woods tomorrow.” 

Dipper leans over to kiss Norman’s cheek. “You’d love the forest.”

“Would you kiss me in front of the monsters?” 

“Uh, duh! Why _wouldn’t_ I?”

“I feel like that’s not the greatest tactic to distract monsters.”

Dipper shrugs. “Dunno why not, man. Whenever _you_ walk out in the forest and see some dudes, like, hardcore making out, don’t _you_ say ‘okay, I’ve seen enough, and I’m leaving now’?”

Norman laughs, his face crinkling with laughter. His laugh is soft, high, and mostly in his face instead of in his voice. Dipper laughs along, louder and more boisterous than Norman. They laugh in their faded lawn chairs on the Mystery Shack roof, the _S_ as loose and want to fall as ever, the sun falling beneath the trees and sky growing dark around them. Dipper leans against Norman’s side, his can of Pitt Cola dropping to the roof and spilling down the shingles in a waterfall of peach soda, glowing golden in the nearly-dead sunlight.

“Dip, do you have something to tell me?” Norman asks, struggling to remain deadpan while trying to catch his breath. 

Dipper looks directly into Norman’s eyes, still snorting with laughter. “Yeah, Norm. I’ve been in this exact situation every time I go into that forest.”

Norman shakes his head at Dipper, smiling. “You’re a nerd.”

“Yeah, but so are you.” Dipper shrugs.

Norman slings his arm over Dipper’s shoulders and pulls Dipper closer, kissing his temple, then resting his face in Dipper’s messy hair, coarse and fluffy against Norman’s night-cooled skin. Dipper leans his head on Norman’s shoulder. They watch the sky go completely dark, the blue turning to black from a lack of light pollution in such a tiny town, the bright twinkle of stars blinking down at them from the darkness. 

“Look,” Norman says, pointing at the starry sky. “It’s you.”

Dipper looks up to where Norman’s pointing, sees it’s the Big Dipper, and pushes Norman’s chest. “Shut up, man.”

Norman laughs again. “Do you get that a lot?”

“Huh, Norm, I _wonder_.” Dipper leans his head back on Norman’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I am pretty lucky.”

Dipper chuckles, taking Norman’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “I’m lucky you love me, too.” 

Norman rests his head against Dipper’s. “Who said I love you?”

“Uh, you do. Every day.” Dipper pokes Norman’s side, between his rubs. 

“You’re right.” Norman looks up at the Big Dipper shining in the sky, then looks at his Dipper, leaning against his shoulder, face lit by the lights in the night sky and a little by the light spilling out from inside the Mystery Shack. “I love you. Nerd.”

“ _You’re_ the nerd.”

“Really? You play the sousaphone.” 

“It’s a noble instrument!” Dipper defends.

“ _And_ you chew on pens until they explode.”

“I… don’t have a good defence for that,” Dipper admits.

“ _And_ you’re my boyfriend.”

Dipper snorts. “Okay, Norm. I get it. Only a nerd could date you.”

“And you’re my nerd.” 

“Oh, so it’s just a nerdy way of saying _you’re my nerd_.” Dipper nuzzles into Norman’s neck. “Can I have some of your soda?”

Norman hands Dipper the sweaty can. Dipper shifts his head from Norman’s shoulder to drink it, passing the can back to Norman, the last sip of Pitt still in the bottom. Norman finishes the can and delicately sets it next to his chair. 

Mabel’s 80s music continues to play at an obnoxious volume, so loud Norman and Dipper can hear it from on the roof. From the open windows beneath them, Mable’s voice floats up, instructing everyone to _dance like they’ve never danced before!_ over the synth-pop. 

“We should go back to the party,” Norman says.

“Soon.” Dipper rests his head on Norman’s shoulder, staring up at the stars with him. “This is our time.”


	4. In the Morning When I Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning light streams in through the triangular window of the attic, catching the dust particles floating through the air. 
> 
> Dipper rubs at his eyes. He’s forgotten what it’s like to live in the attic, dusty and quiet, smelling of old wood and mothballs. Norman’s stretched out next to him with minimal contact, the heat of the attic making sleeping tangled up like they normally do entirely impossible. It’s difficult _not_ to be so close, in the small twin size mattress they have to share, and Dipper almost fell from the bed a couple times in the night, but they managed.
> 
> Muffled voices rise from the lower parts of the Shack, floating up the stairs and through the thin ceilings and walls. If Dipper thinks about it hard enough, he can smell pancakes and maple syrup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title also from "Bloom" by The Paper Kites.

The morning light streams in through the triangular window of the attic, catching the dust particles floating through the air. 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. He’s forgotten what it’s like to live in the attic, dusty and quiet, smelling of old wood and mothballs. Norman’s stretched out next to him with minimal contact, the heat of the attic making sleeping tangled up like they normally do entirely impossible. It’s difficult _not_ to be so close, in the small twin size mattress they have to share, and Dipper almost fell from the bed a couple times in the night, but they managed.

Muffled voices rise from the lower parts of the Shack, floating up the stairs and through the thin ceilings and walls. If Dipper thinks about it hard enough, he can smell pancakes and maple syrup.

He’s half-tempted to get up and begin his day, but doesn’t want to ruin this moment. Instead, Dipper picks up a book from the makeshift nightstand and reads.

Norman stirs, cracking open a bright blue eye and groaning at the light.

“Good morning,” Dipper says. He runs a hand through Norman’s unruly hair.

“ _Too bright_ ,” Norman grumbles, covering his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s a little light out,” Dipper agrees.

“Asshole.” Norman props himself up, blinking at the room. He’d looked around it the night before and said it was cute. It’s not so cute in the bright morning light, but much more enchanting. He stretches out a little, shifting into a more comfortable position. “What time is it?”

Dipper checks his watch. “Nine-ish.”

“ _Nine-ish_ ,” Norman mutters. They’d gone to bed six hours earlier, but Norman knows he can’t go back to sleep now that he’s awake. “Ugh.”

“Good morning,” Dipper repeats.

Norman scowls at him. Dipper pokes his nose. Norman tries not to laugh at that. “Morning,” he replies, still trying to smother his smile.

“D’you wanna go downstairs?”

Norman blinks at Dipper. “Maybe we could…,” Norman suggests, vaguely. He sprawls across Dipper’s chest, a little like a cat. 

Dipper laughs. “Maybe,” he says. “But I’m _hungry_ , Norm.”

Norman groans. “Not even a little?”

“Later,” Dipper promises. He pushes Norman off his chest and slips off the mattress, offering a hand to help Norman up. Norman takes it, rising unsteadily to his feet. In the mornings, his legs never want to work. “There’s probably pancakes downstairs.”

Norman perks up a little at that. “Then let’s go downstairs,” he suggests. He leads Dipper down the attic stairs, then has Dipper take them to the kitchen.

Stan’s sitting in the small kitchen and reading the newspaper, a plate stacked high with pancakes in front of him.

“Look who finally decided to get up,” Stan says, pushing up his glasses. “Mornin’, kids.”

“Morning,” Dipper says.

“Hi,” Norman adds, shyly standing to Dipper’s side.

“You boys were up pretty late last night, huh?”

“Everyone was.” Dipper takes a chair, looking at Norman to do the same. Norman takes the chair next to him, resting his hands on the tabletop.

“Ha, well, I can’t say much about that. Ford’s been up since God knows when.” Stan drinks from his coffee mug. “He came up for some pancakes and coffee and then went back down to his weird science lair.”

“Science lair?” Norman asks. He rests his elbow on the table and his cheek on his fist.

“My geek brother built a science lair,” Stan explains, matter-of-factly, gesturing to the floor with the mug, nearly spilling coffee. “He lives in there too. Weirdo.”

“Doesn’t Rick live in _his_ science lair?”

“You know kid, you ask too many questions.” Stan points at Dipper, then at Norman. “Your boyfriend doesn’t ask any questions. He’s a quiet guy.”

Dipper rolls his eyes while he reaches over for a pancake. “Yeah, yeah, Stan.”

“Who’s Rick?” Norman asks, quietly.

“ _Rick Sanchez_ is—”

“My significant other.” Stan waves them off. “He’s off doin’ some sorta… I dunno, space… thingy. How’m I supposed to know?” Stan shrugs, exaggeratedly. 

Dipper plates a couple pancakes and slides the plate over to Norman. Norman mutters a quiet _thanks_ and pours a little maple syrup onto them and spreads it over with his fork before cutting into them.

“And _you_ call Ford a geek,” Dipper says.

“He is!” Stan insists. He drinks his coffee pintedly. “It just so happens that my partner’s _also_ a geek. _And_ my great-nephew.” Stan sighs, overdramatic in a way that would make Mabel proud. “Geesh, I’m surrounded on all sides! They’re everywhere!”

Dipper rolls his eyes and plates his own pancakes, pouring a generous amount of syrup on top of them. “Yeah, he’s always like this, he informs Norman, dryly. 

Norman looks up from his pancakes at Dipper with a fond smile. “I see where you and Mabel get it from,” he says, not as dry as Dipper’s tone, the laugh apparent in his voice. 

Dipper gasps, looking at Norman in shock.

Stan laughs and points at Norman with his half-filled coffee cup. “I like him! Keep this guy,” he tells Dipper.

“Maybe I won’t,” Dipper mutters, elbowing Norman’s arm. 

Norman laughs quietly at Dipper. “I think, at this point, if you broke up with me, your family would pick me.” 

Dipper makes an indignant squawk, almost dropping his fork. “Hey!”

“He’s right,” Stan agrees.

“Stan!” Dipper chastises.

“Hey, don’t blame me for what your boyfriend says!”

Norman’s mouth curls up into the world’s softest smirk. “It’s the truth,” he says, not bothering to protest too much. He cuts his pancakes into near-perfect triangles. 

Dipper steals one of the triangles of pancake from Norman’s plate as retribution.

Norman raises his eyebrows at Dipper.

“Repayment,” Dipper explains simply before slipping the pancake into his mouth with a self-satisfied grin. 

Norman shakes his head and returns to his pancakes. 

“Ah, young love,” Stan remarks. “I remember when I was young and in love,” he reminisces. “It was— well, me and Rick didn’t exactly have what _you guys_ do, but there was this fast red car I had—”

“Gross, Stan,” Dipper says, shuddering at the thought of what Stan would’ve said next if he didn’t stop him.

“We’re all adults here,” Stan argues.

“Nope. Not adult enough for that.” Dipper shakes his head and begins shoveling pancakes in his mouth.

“You'll choke,” Norman warns.

“Better than talking about _that_ ,” Dipper mutters through a mouthful of pancake.

Norman nods sagely, not having been in this sort of situation before but understanding the feeling, eating his own pancakes instead of talking. 

Stan laughs at them and shakes his head. “ _Kids_ ,” he says, fondly. He stands from the table. “Whelp, I better leave you kids to… whatever nerd stuff you get up to. I’m gonna see if Fordy needs any help in the lair.” Then Stan leaves without pushing in his chair.

Dipper takes Stan’s abandoned coffee mug from the table and uses it to wash down his pancakes. He coughs. 

“Told you you’d choke,” Norman says.

“Okay, okay,” Dipper says, smiling. “You did.”

Norman pokes at his pancakes. “Your family’s… nice.”

“You can say _weird_ , Norman. We both know weird.” 

Norman rolls his eyes. “Okay, weird,” he says. “But… nice. I like them.” He smiles gently. 

Dipper breathes a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“You thought I wouldn’t like them?”

“Norm, I don’t know if you’ve met them, but they’re pretty weird.” Dipper brushes his elbow against Norman’s, poking his spider web tattoo. 

“Wait until you meet mine.”

Dipper raises his eyebrows. “I don’t wanna brag, but my Grunkle Ford traveled across dimensions for, like, _years_.”

“Can he see ghosts?”

“He has _six fingers_.”

“Can he see ghosts?”

“ _And_ he’s the smartest man I’ve ever met.”

“Can he see ghosts?”

“Norman, if you ask me that one more time, I’m going to—”

“Make me into a ghost?”

Dipper tries to keep his face angry, but can’t entirely suppress his smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth flicking up. “Yes. And that’s a threat.”

“Nothing like a good threat in the morning,” Norman deadpans. “Really wakes you up.”

“And here I was thinking the best part of waking up was hunting monsters,” Dipper says, equally deadpan. He steals another one of Noman’s neat triangles of pancake and shoves it in his mouth with a smirk.

Norman playfully stabs at the air in Dipper’s direction.

“If you stab me, I’ll haunt you,” Dipper threatens.

“A fate worse than death.”

Dipper shoves Norman. “Shut up, man.”

Norman replies by eating a triangle of pancake, eyebrows raised. 

“Okay, I have some ideas for what to do today.”

“Did you make a list?” Norman asks.

“No,” Dipper lies, poorly.

Norman gives Dipper a pointed look, pinning him down. 

“Okay, fine,” Dipper says, cracking under his boyfriend’s intense blue gaze. “Yeah, I made a list. But!” Dipper extends his hands. “ _But_ I’m not gonna use it. Hopefully.”

“Okay,” Norman says.

Dipper drums his fingers on the wooden table. “Okay, so, we can go through the forest—”

“ _The_ famous Gravity Falls forest?”

“Yes,” Dipper says. “If you’ll let me continue, you can find out what else is on the itinerary.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Dipper looks at Norman for a moment, satisfied that he won’t be interrupted again. “The forest, and we can eat at Greasy’s Diner, and maybe Crash Site Omega, if you want to see the UFOs—” Dipper stops when Norman opens his mouth to ask about UFOs. Norman gives him an apologetic look. Dipper continues. “There’s the Museum of History, the library, and the water tower, which are all pretty cool places to hang out, and if you want to explore, there are the mines and the lake.”

Norman raises an eyebrow, as if to ask _are you finished?_ , and when Dipper nods, he speaks. “We have a couple days just to enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Dipper says, blankly.

“Let’s go to the forest and diner today, and if we get to the crash site, then cool.” Norman shrugs, far more relaxed than Dipper is. 

Dipper nods. “Okay. Okay. Cool.”

“So. Yeah.” Norman finishes his plate of pancakes and picks it up, stacking Dipper’s on top of his before walking to the sink. He starts rinsing them.

“Hey!” Dipper jumps up from the table and rushes over to the sink, waving his hands. “C’mon, don’t do the dishes. You’re a guest, man.”

Norman looks down at the plates. “Yeah, but…”

“No, man. I’ll get them.”

“I’ll dry them,” Norman suggests. Then, at Dipper’s look, he sighs. “Please? I don’t like… feeling useless.”

“You don’t do the dishes at the apartment,” Dipper argues.

Norman shoves him. 

“Hey, man, I’m just telling you!” Dipper shoves Norman back. 

“And you never take your clothes off the floor, so I think we’re even,” Norman says.

Dipper doesn’t argue, because he knows Norman has a point. “Get me Stan’s coffee cup?”

Norman traipses over to the table and gets the cup, bringing it back for him and placing it to the side of the plates. 

“Thanks.” Dipper leans against Norman’s side, the domesticity of doing dishes together settling in. “I’m glad my family likes you,” he confesses, gentle and real.

“I’m glad they like me, too,” Norman says. 

“I just… I wanted them to like you. You mean a lot to me.”

Norman’s quiet for a moment before he wraps his arms around Dipper. “Yeah,” he says, quietly. “You mean a lot to me, too. And I’m glad you took me to Gravity Falls.”

“Of course,” Dipper says.

Norman holds Dipper for a moment while he does the dishes, then lets go to dry them with a towel printed with cartoon cat faces.


End file.
